The Queen of Scanra
by Nolee of Stone Mountain
Summary: A simple mission became one that swept her into Scanra's vile court, into Queen Gintra's confidence, and past King Maggur's intimate chamber doors. Now she won't stop until she gets what she wants...and deserves. Beware of Keladry - the queen of Scanra.
1. Prologue

Erm…there's like three more fics Imma be posting. It's just to lure more people into my power! BWAHAHAHAHA!! ::is insane:: That does NOT mean none of my other stories will be updated. It just means there will be randomness. And although Entwined Destinies is kind of on hiatus right now - unfortunately - I will do my best to update it soon. My apologies.

Disclaimer: I own…I own…nothing.

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Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan exited the king's chambers with a dreadful cloud of doom hovering just over her head. Behind her Yamani Mask, a frown threatened to overcome her bland features. Tears, and a fatal outburst accompanied it.

She was nineteen. That was too young to become some maggot king's mistress. Unfortunately, neither King Jonathan of Conte nor Sir Myles of Olau saw it that way.

"You requested me, sire?" Keladry asked politely.

"Indeed," the king replied gravely. He waved to a seat beside Myles. "Please, sit down."

Obediently Keladry settled down into the cushion chair, her face unreadable but her shoulders tense.

"Keladry…"

Sir Myles hesitated, and looked her in the eye regretfully. "You are a woman. Unmarried. Skillful. Worthy of spying." He sighed, and rubbed the back of his neck wearily. "I need you to spy for me, Lady Knight."

Keladry blinked. "Of course, sir. Tell me where."

"Myles," Jonathan warned.

The old man winced. "This is not a completely fruitless mission. You will be sent to Scanra to spy on Maggot, and his newly appointed wife and queen, Gintra."

"Of course."

"Myles."

"You will kill them," Myles said quietly. "This is a job for an assassin. I understand. But all of my spies are in the Copper Isles or keeping watched on the southern countries. I know you will do well."

"MYLES!"

Myles sighed. "Before you kill them, I need you to get information. Whatever you come across is helpful to Tortall. Gintra will be easy. Maggot, on the other hand - all the mistresses he has know every bloody thing about Scanra. They are in his confidence."

Keladry finally understood what he was getting at. "No…you don't think…"

"Keladry," the elderly knight said, his expression pained, "I need you to become King Maggur's mistress."

An angry red flush settled on her cheeks as she remembered her raging outburst. She had ranted, uncharacteristically cursed and threatened - but in the end it had all been in vain. Now she was setting out for Scanra early tomorrow morning to become the king's concubine when she arrived.

From all accounts, it was the only way. Maggur was not stupid either - when he found new game, he sent the former mistress to be hanged. He could not trust that a rejected woman would cross the border and reveal his plans. So in the process, Kel could be killed easily.

Joren would have a field day, she thought wryly. _'Ha-ha, look at the Mindelan slut! She's become a maggot's bitch!' _****

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Sorry it's so short…is kind of a prologue. Eh. No flames. If you do want to flame me, read my bio. That'll tell you everything.


	2. Arriving In Scanra

****

Bah. Wake-Robin, you spoil me rotten. You've inflated my ego to about…ten times its normal size!! Thanks for the compliment…I kinda got the idea from the back cover of a paperback…called Rosamund. X.X

O.o;; Kaz, sweetie, you are scaring me… ::grins:: Sorry, no Joren in this fic!!

FINE THEN!!! I don't want your silly old Joren clone anyway. Come on, sexy!! ::drags Joren and hot Latin muse away::

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The sky was a dusky red-violet. Long fingers of weak gold light stretched out across the ground, reaching for something they would never find.

A breath of wind caressed Keladry's cheek and lifted her hair off her neck. Her face was flat and empty, although her eyes were bleak. She sat atop her small easygoing mare, Hoshi, who stood patiently in place on top of the hill. In her white-knuckled grasp she held the leather reins tightly. She was looking down at an expanse of slummy streets, all leading to a palace looming ominously in the distance.

She shuddered and nudged the patient mare into a trot.

Very few people were moving about. Only the watch patrol, men who eyed her suspiciously, then dismissed her when she demurely smiled at them and lowered her lashes bashfully, were about, and their numbers were few. Occasionally she would come across a crazed commoner who shamelessly reached for her moneybag, full of coins given to her by the king to appear the rich court lady. If anybody asked, she was from a country called Galla - Daine told her to use the town "Snowsdale". Whether it was real or not she did not care, only that they believe her.

As the sun rose higher windows began to bang open, revealing mistrustful men and women who reluctantly greeted the day. Her heart skipped a beat. She had no idea how she was going to do this. She was suddenly scared. All she wanted to do was turn back, now; gallop out of this lion's den and salvage her skin. Only duty, and the sense of honor prevented her from doing so.

King Jonathan told her to go straight to the palace. Tell the guards that her family was killed in a bandit raid and that she sought protection from the great Scanran king. No doubt her request would be conveyed to the king, who would demand her audience. Kel swallowed and practiced her story.

My name is Illuvia. I come from Snowsdale, Galla. My family was killed in a bandit attack. I have heard of your mercy, sire, and I plead for your shelter. I fear the bandits will come after me also, for the leader had a grudge against my father…

Rehearse the story. Say it over and over again so you feel like that was your life. Make up names. Don't ever use your friends' names.

Traveling continuously on, Kel found that the homes and buildings began to get classier, more neat and rich. A couple of small children giggled outside on a lawn, throwing rocks at a chained dog until a scolding woman marched out and hauled them back inside by their ears. She drew in a shuddering breath.

A half-candlemark later she was approaching the gates, Hoshi padding confidently toward the armored men clutching pikes easily in their big hands. They peered at her warily, the young harmless noblewoman who radiated no threat.

"What business have you hear?" a burly guardsman asked gruffly.

"I seek an audience with his royal majesties Kel replied, her voice soft and innocuous.

"Why?" a thinner man asked.

"My family - they were killed in a bandit raid." Kel took a shaky breath and looked away as thought it pained her to speak of it, calling forth tears that gleamed in her eyes when she turned back. Relieved, she found the armed men regarding her with pity and sympathy. "I request shelter, for the bandits held a grudge against my father, and I fear they still search for me."

"I will relay your message to the king and queen," a short, stocky man promised, bowing low. "What is your name, my lady?"

"Lady Illuvia of Snowsdale," she said. "It is much appreciated, kind sir."

The man blushed and bowed clumsily again, then hurried off toward the grand marble palace.

"Would you like me to take your horse to the stables?" a man asked hopefully, vying for her attention. "Or someone else can do it, and I can show you the gardens…"

"Oh, please do settle in my mare," she begged, gazing at him with eyes that - with constant practice - became beseeching as a doe's. "She's awfully tired - "

"Of course, milady," he said hastily, stepping forward to smugly claim the reins.

Not to be outdone, the burly man rushed to her side and offered to help her dismount. She gratefully accepted and with a surprising amount of grace - her deep green velvet gown was heavy and awkward.

"Would you like me to give you a tour of the gardens?"

"I'd like th - "

The man who went to convey the message returned, completely out of air. He gulped in oxygen greedily, before bowing expertly down. "His majesties King Maggur and Queen Gintra approve and await you in their chambers." He offered her his arm, and much to his fellow guards' disgust she took it and smiled warmly at him.

"Thank you," she whispered. "And I shall take you up on that tour of the gardens, my dear man. What is your name?"

"Brennan," the burly man murmured. "Sir Brennan of Rashveladen."

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Edwin - as Kel learned her escort's name was - paused at the door to wistfully remove her arm, and courteously opened the door for her.

"Thank you," she said to him, and disappeared behind the door.

King Maggur and Queen Gintra were not at all what she thought they would be. For one, the king was startlingly handsome - thick red-gold hair and grave slate-colored eyes. He smiled warmly at her when she entered, and gestured graciously to a cushion to relax on. Gintra was golden-haired and -eyed, a breathtakingly odd-looking beauty. She, too, greeted her with a pleasant smile and a small nod.

Kel curtsied low, looking adoring at the monarchs, appearing the awed country noble. It pleased them, as their smiles grew. She arranged her skirts neatly around her as she settled on the plushy cushion.

"I have heard your request," Maggur said. "And I offer you a home in the palace for protection."

The lady knight blinked. She had not expected it to be that easy - she had thought she would receive a convent within the district.

"Oh, thank you, my king, my queen," she cried, ducking her head. "I don't know how I am to repay you…"

"Don't even think about it," Queen Gintra told her sternly. Her voice was like honeyed sunshine. "We would never turn away a cry for help."

And so Kel arrived in Scanra and secured her position in the palace - the first part of the mission was complete.

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Er…not as long as I wanted it to be. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?? Check my bio daily, for I am forever adding pointless things to it.


	3. Observations

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Yes, there was a reason she was accepted so easily. It shall be explained later. Somebody asked if Gintra was s beautiful, then why did Maggur want mistresses. Catherine of Aragon was beautiful, if older than King Henry, but he still had mistresses. Blah. He had nine wives, or something around there. Blah.

Disclaimer: What the hell do you think??

Oh, and some of this may be borrowed from England's history. I do love the suspense of the English ancestry.

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A ball was held that very night Keladry arrived, but she did not attend. Instead, she grabbed the opportunity to observe the grand gala, hidden behind a tapestry, which concealed a secreted corridor, probably used by servants, or else long forgotten.

Most of the noble women were the pallid, blond color typical of Scanrans, although she did spot the occasional redhead and brunette, but even they had blond in their locks and from what she could gather, were blue-eyed. All of them supported hair nets that bound their hair. They wore light-colored gowns, modestly high at the bosom. It was a fashion distastefully looked down on in Tortall, but apparently fashionable here.

She looked nothing like them, and she was not sure that was a good thing.

King Jonathan had forced her to change her appearance in hopes she would blend in more. His attempt failed utterly, for she could not blend in more if she had burst into the ballroom right then singing a bawdy bar song while wearing a pink top hat. Her hair had been dyed black with permanent magic color, her eyes bewitched into a black-brown. Whereas they were small and delicate, she towered over them with her height and muscular build.

The Scanran queen looked irritated and tired. The probable cause was the youthful, sweet-faced blond perched petulantly on the king's knee. When Kel first met them, in their chambers, she could tell there was no lost love between them. But to go so far as to publicly humiliate Gintra - that was low.

Kel spotted something, then, that made her frown. A blond child, somewhere around ten, perhaps,, stood between them, smiling dutifully at nobles as they passed. She wore upon her golden head a tiny, unimpressive crown - but it was a crown, nonetheless, and the mark of a royal child.

Nothing was said of an heir. No one in Tortall had ever mentioned a princess. Perhaps she was the result of a previous marriage with another man and Gintra, or an illegitimate child of Maggur and a mistress? She could not tell whose she was, for her yellow hair could have been inherited from either parent, and she was too far away to observe her appearance. She may not even be directly related to them, perhaps a distant cousin of one. She shook her head; it was something to ponder later.

How was she to become Maggur's…mistress? Many of the women here were twice as appealing. They threw themselves upon the king with a passion Kel knew she could never do. The only thing she could think of that would catch his eye would be to stand out. Be uninterested in him…do everything against the Scanran nature.

For now, she must gather all the information she could before she made an entrance at court. And she knew exactly how to do it.

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Illuvia of Snowsdale was not beautiful, but one very rarely realized that when caught up in her charm as the guards were. Never before had she been given this much attention as these men did. For some reason, their doting adoration presented to her with a kind of glorious triumph. She found she enjoyed dark-haired, blue-eyed Varien of Rishkasorv the most.

Varien himself was most enchanted by this lady. He noticed she was not beautiful at all - but she was such a pleasant relief from all the pale-skinned noble women belonging to Court. Her thick black curls cascaded around her shoulders in an unbound mass, a bold gesture as opposed to the submissive hair nets. Her eyes shone like polished dark stones. She was dark, a tan color that almost made Varien think she worked out in the fields, as did her callused hands - but he knew this woman who fluttered her sooty lashes so demurely at him could not work outside. Her complexion must be natural, her hands due to chores. She was tall and strong.

He took pride in the fact she paid more attention to him than the other guards. She told him she liked him better with her fluttery hands, a simple touch…he burned for her.

"I saw a child with their good majesties while I was passing by the ballroom," Illuvia murmured, spreading her black skirts around her as she settled down on the warm grass. "In Galla, we get most every news. But I never heard of her…Do tell me who she is."

Varien could not refuse her request, but that oaf Brennan answered first, and he felt a pang of hate when he did so and her attention was drawn from him.

"Her name is Selene. She's the king's child," Brennan said eagerly, nudging Varien out of the way to fold himself neatly beside her. "She's nine."

"The king was married before he took with the queen," Edwin interrupted, settling in front of her. "Her name was Selene, also, and she died during birth. As of now, she is the only heir."

"A selfish brat," one man muttered, named Frejo of Rash-something. "She's a bitch, and I'm not sorry for saying so."

"Everyone knows what the king really wants is a son," Varien said, plopping down gracelessly beside her, absently taking her hand in his. He was acutely aware of the resentful stares he received because of it, and he grinned wickedly at them.

"A son," Illuvia murmured, tapping her full red mouth thoughtfully. Varien stared at it, captivated. "Why?"

"Because males are regarded higher than females, of course," he said, astonished. "And they should be."

For some reason, she took offense to this and turned from him, withdrawing her hand from his caress. He frowned as she focused her attention on Edwin, changing the subject and asking a trivial question.

Varien gritted his teeth. Of all the pretty ladies that threw themselves at him, none had him so enamored as did this dark sorceress. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to make her his.

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Gintra brushed her long silky hair with rough, brisk strokes. Her golden eyes fairly sparked with anger. The image of Lady Jerlyn, sitting on top Maggur's - _her _husband! - knee like she had every right to do so. She remembered the way Jery had sent her snide smiles, her blue eyes wickedly triumphant. After the ball, when Gintra had spotted Jery and Maggur sneaking away stealthily to her rooms, where they no doubt still were, she had beckoned for the younger woman.

She grinned coldly as she remembered the conversation.

"What do you want?" Jerlyn asked pertly.

Gintra glared. "You are Maggur's new mistress, obviously."

"Yes, obviously, he likes women who are actually good _in bed."_

"I have a warning for you, Jery," the queen said coldly. "You seem to have forgotten that I am queen. I am above you. If I should wish, you will be hanged. Or tortured, if the notion suits me."

"The king would not let you," the court lady said, though her smug expression faltered into one of fear.

"The king does not control me," Gintra snapped curtly. "Beware, Jery. All his mistresses have been killed - that was not a coincidence."

"They died accidental deaths," Jery whispered, her voice dull.

"Or so you think." The golden woman's lips tilted into a crooked cold smile. "Take heed. Maggur kills them quickly, painlessly, but gorily nonetheless. You are next."

It was not common knowledge that the king killed his former mistresses. Only his close advisors, and his wife, knew it. And, of course, his victims.

That brought thought to the new lady, Illuvia. Gintra had almost immediately liked her. She seemed sincere, and she was not pretty enough to be any threat as a prospective mistress.

Gintra wanted to get to know Illuvia. She wanted to be friends.

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Agh…still short. Oh well. Hope you like the update!


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